existing order of things; this, too, at the very time when a
popular revolution has just occurred in France,(5) and its effects are
felt most in the very land of the exile:--suppose all this, and then say if
any thing could be more untoward for the hopes of the banished man, or
furnish his adversaries with stronger arguments against the restoration of
his fortune? But, pshaw--this must be a chimera! If true, I should have
known of it."

"I quite agree with your lordship--there can be no truth in such a rumor.
Some Englishman hearing, perhaps, of the probable pardon of the exile, may
have counted on an heiress, and spread the report in order to keep off
other candidates. By your account, if successful in his suit, he might
fail to find an heiress in the bride?"

"No doubt of that. Whatever might be arranged, I can't conceive that he
would be allowed to get at the fortune, though it might be held in
suspense for his children. But, indeed, it so rarely happens that an
Italian girl of high name marries a foreigner, that we must dismiss this
notion with a smile at the long face of the hypothetical fortune-hunter.
Heaven help him, if he exist!"

"Amen!" echoed Randal, devoutly.

"I hear that Peschiera's sister is returned to England. Do you know her
too?"

"A little."

"My dear Mr. Leslie, pardon me if I take a liberty not warranted by our
acquaintance. Against the lady I say nothing. Indeed, I have heard some
things which appear to entitle her to compassion and respect. But as to
Peschiera, all who prize honor, suspect him to be a knave--I know him to be
one. Now, I think that the longer we preserve that abhorrence for knavery
which is the generous instinct of youth, why, the fairer will be our
manhood, and the more reverend our age. You agree with me?" And Harley
suddenly turning, his eyes fell like a flood of light upon Randal's pale
and secret countenance.

"To be sure," murmured the schemer.

Harley surveying him, mechanically recoiled, and withdrew his arm.

Fortunately for Randal, who somehow or other felt himself slipped into a
false position, he scarce knew how or why, he was here seized by the arm;
and a clear, open, manly voice cried, "My dear fellow, how are you? I see
you are engaged now; but look into my rooms when you can, in the course of
the day."

And with a bow of excuse for his interruption, to Lord L'Estrange, the
speaker was then turning away, when Harley said:

"No, don't let me take you